


Tearing down a beautiful dream

by Linisen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 18OI AU Week 2019: Day 6, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - General Store, Alternate Universe - World War I, Don't copy to another site, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non explicit mentions of war related violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 04:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linisen/pseuds/Linisen
Summary: Yuuri is only a child when he first sees him, just out of school and on his second week as an errand boy in Mrs. Ottawa’s general store. He’s standing on his tippy toes, trying to reach the canned peaches that Mrs. Ottawa had bought form one of the farmers on the outskirts of town, when the doorbell chimes. Yuuri barely manages to catch the jar as it falls off the shelf as he accidentally knocks it over, startled by the sound. He places it carefully into the basket, next to the flour, cinnamon and dried peas he packed earlier.“Good afternoon Mr. Nikiforov. How may I assist you?” Mrs. Ottawa says and is meet with boisterous laughter. Yuuri peeks out from the small storage to try to get a look, curious.Or: A general store AU set in England during the first world war. Yuuri is an errand boy at Mrs. Ottawas store, who falls in love with the farmers son Victor Nikiforov. A love story.





	Tearing down a beautiful dream

**Author's Note:**

> I would strongly recomentd listening to this [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/album/6xjWiCK1NwsZr7GtP2EWeP?si=_48ukku5RPucZJPQP5JuRw) while reading if you have chance. It's what I listend to while writing it and it very much sets the mood. 
> 
> A huge thank you to the 18+!!! on Ice server for all the encouragement and love you all spread every day, and for this event that pushed me out of my comfort zone. It's been so much fun and everyone there is crazy supportive. If you feel like joining, please do.

Yuuri is only a child when he first sees him, just out of school and on his second week as an errand boy in Mrs. Ottawa’s general store. He’s standing on his tippy toes, trying to reach the canned peaches that Mrs. Ottawa had bought form one of the farmers on the outskirts of town, when the doorbell chimes. Yuuri barely manages to catch the jar as it falls off the shelf as he accidentally knocks it over, startled by the sound. He places it carefully into the basket, next to the flour, cinnamon and dried peas he packed earlier.

“Good afternoon Mr. Nikiforov. How may I assist you?” Mrs. Ottawa says and is meet with boisterous laughter. Yuuri peeks out from the small storage to try to get a look, curious.

There is a large man, with broad shoulders, huge hands and a wide grin on his face. He has short, dark hair, speckled with grey. He’s in brown pants, a shirt that looks well worn and worked in and sturdy shoes. _Perhaps a farmer,_ Yuuri thinks. He looks kind, and strong enough be able to wrestle a cow and come out victorious. Yuuri giggles at the thought of it. Then he spots the person next to him. It’s a child, a little older than Yuuri, perhaps in his early teen years. He has long hair in a ponytail, cascading down like starlight towards his back. He’s in similar clothes as the person next to him, but there is where the similarities stop. The boys eyes are bright blue, like the sea that lines the towns harbor. He’s also lithe, looks strong. Yuuri’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s the most beautiful boy Yuuri has ever seen.

Mr. Nikiforov leanes one arm on the counter of the shop. Behind him, the boy crosses his arms, look on his face amused.

“Mrs. Ottawa, how are you this wonderful day?”

Mrs. Ottawa smirks, eyes crinkling up at the edges as she shakes her head, then tilts it to look at the boy still standing a few feet behind the older man who’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Victor, I sincerely wish you become more charming than your father.”

 _Victor_ , the boys name is Victor. Yuuri’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s a pretty name, he thinks.

Victor smiles, wide and knowing before giving one sharp nod.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mr. Nikiforov turns then to swat his fingers at Victor’s stomach, giving off a ‘ _snap’_ in the air. Victor lets out a startled scheek as he jumps out of line from the fingers. Mr. Nikiforov looks appalled while Mrs. Ottawa laughs, louder than Yuuri has ever heard her laugh before.  

“Betrayed by my own son, how will I survive,” Mr. Nikiforov pouts and Victor and Mr. Ottawa exchange matching grins. Victor’s smile is heart shaped, Yuuri notices. How lovely.

“I think it’s good to see he’s become more polite than you ever were,” Mrs Ottawa shoots back, straightening. “Alright, what can I get for you lads today?”

Mr. Nikiforov straightens and looks over at Victor, expectantly.

“You have the list?” He asks and Victor’s eyes widen, nodding as he too steps up to the counter. He’s so close now that Yuuri can spot freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“One bag of oats, one can of peaches and two bags of flour, the good kind.”

“I only have the good kind,” Mrs Ottawa says before turning, spotting Yuuri behind the self in the storage corridor as she does.

“Yuuri! What are you standing around for? Should you not be on your way to Mrs. Lee?”

The exclamation draws Mr. Nikiforov and Victor’s eyes towards Yuuri who squeals in embarrassment and grabs his basket to hurryingly gather the rest of the order.

“Yes, of course. Sorry, Mrs. Ottawa.”

His cheeks are burning and he feels utterly foolish, being spotted staring at the customers, and for seemingly being lazy and not doing his job.

He’s just got to grab some eggs and then he can head over to the Lee residents across town. He grabs the box of the shelf behind the counter as Mrs. Ottawa starts plucking down the asked for goods off the high selfs. Yuuri keeps his eyes down, cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. When he comes back he will have to apologize to Mrs. Ottawa again. She was most kind in giving him a job. His family very much needs the money, and Yuuri had quit school just so he could help make ends meet. His parents tavern have been going somewhat poorly lately, and every penny they can get counts. He does not dare to look up at the customers when he’s done collecting goods, and he doesn’t turn back once he’s started to walk towards the backdoor.

 

“Yuuri,” Mrs. Ottawa calls, brown paper bag in hand. Yuuri has just stepped of the too large bike after his regular Thursday delivery round and is exhausted after bicycling around town. He pants as he steps off, brushing some sweat from his forehead.  
“Yes, Mrs. Ottawa.”

“Would you take this to the farm north of the Feltsman estate? The Nikiforov farm?”

Yuuri feels a blush spread across his cheeks, remembering the dashing boy from two weeks ago, and what a fool he had made of himself.

“The-The Nikiforov farm?” He stutters, trying to gain his composure.

“Yes, they have asked to be put into the delivery round. It’s quite a bit to go so I thought I would send you there last, and when you’re done you can go home for the day, bring the bike back in the morning.” She places the bag on the rack, fastening it with the straps there to make sure it does not fall off.

“A-Alright,” Yuuri says, breath still in his throat. From exhaustion or nerves, he does not know.

 

He’s never been this far out side of town without his parents before, and it’s somewhat frightening, to not be completely sure he’s going the right way or if he'll get lost, if he’ll find his way back. Still, the countryside is beautiful, green trees lining the roads, yellow and green fields undulate as he pedals through them on gravel roads. After awhile he comes to a farm, scattered with small stone houses, and one large wooden barn. Apple trees fill the garden, unripe fruit hanging heavy from them, a quartet of sturdy work horses nibble on the grass between them. There are cows in pastures, next to the barn, brown and white spotted, mules down into the ground. It feels harmonious.

Yuuri slows and stops the bike on the graveled courtyard that ties the buildings together, stepping off and untying the bag. He holds it close to his chest, afraid he might drop it and make an even bigger fool of himself than he did last time.

He looks around the courtyard, trying to figure out which house is the residential, or at least where he can find someone to direct him. It’s so much easier in town. There, he can simply stop someone passing by and ask. Here, there are no one, except the horses. One of them have come up to the fence, eyeing Yuuri closely.

He carefully puts the bag down next to the bike, walking over to where the horse stands. It does not move away as he approaches, and Yuuri carefully raises a hand, hoping he won’t lose a finger. The horse bofs his his hand, muzzle soft against Yuuri’s hand. He laughs, a little breathless. He’s never petted a horse before. The only time he’s been close to one has been around carriages in town, and his family have not had many reasons to use one.

“She’s a sweetheart, wouldn’t you say?”

Yuuri turns, eyes wide in shock and …

“I’m sorry!” He almost shouts as he comes face to face with Victor. He’s in a beige shirt, sleeves rolled up, dirt staining it. He’s smiling widely, hands in pockets as he studies Yuuri with a tilted head.  
“No, no. It’s alright. She loves the attention.” Victor's smile turns heart shaped as he steps forward, hand outstretched. “Yuuri, right? I’m Victor.”

 

“YUURI!”

Yuuri laughs and pedals faster, standing up on the bike as the wind rushes by his ears and into his hair. Victor is standing in one of the fields, waving his arms above his head, smiling that heart shaped smile that Yuuri loves so. They have been doing this for four years now, and even if they have a new errand boy at the shop, Yuuri still does the deliveries to the Nikiforov farm. Mrs. Ottawa, Minako as she insists Yuuri call her now, had offered to let the errand boy take the bike out here as well, but Yuuri had insisted he keep this one delivery, for exercise purposes.

Minako had laughed and said _‘Whatever you do to convince yourself, Yuuri.’_ and Yuuri had blushed for that entire day. The truth is, he and Victor are friends, and Yuuri cheriches these days every other week when he gets to come out on the countryside, smell the grass and flowers and manure and just be. The fact that Victor always humors him with long walks in the fields during fine days, strong tea by the stove when it’s raining and apple picking when the season is just right is an added treat. Yuuri is not sure to why Victor humors him, but he takes what he’s been given.

Yuuri’s infatuation, which he can recognise now that he is older, has not subdued by knowing the older boy. It’s quite the opposite. His heart always thunders in his chest when he sees him, butterflies erupting in his stomach on the stray occasions they’ve touched. He knows it’s fruitless. Victor is a storm. Fierce, powerful and beautiful. He would have no use to be tethered to someone like Yuuri for the rest of his life. Still, Yuuri can dream and fantasize.

He slows his pace as the bike enters the courtyard, jumping of the bike before it has even stopped moving, to take off into a sprint towards Victor. Victor had been away last time Yuuri was here to deliver goods, traveled to London for an exam to be enrolled in college next semester. Victor is so smart. Mr Nikiforov had insisted on all of his children going as far as they could in school. Victor had shown promise, and his father had encouraged if fully, even if that meant one less pair of hands on the farm. Lord Feltsman, who owns the estate adjacent to the farm, has funded all of the extra charges. Victor wants to become a lawyer. Says he loves the farm, but wants more, says he feels like his brain needs a challenge. He’s always reading, and teaching Yuuri things.

He reaches the wooden fence separating the field from the courtyard, and comes second nature now, to grab it and jump over. He has done so many times in the years knowing the Nikiforov family. When he was twelve it had seemed impossible to swing over it like Victor did. Now, at sixteen, he barely thinks about it.

Victor is laughing as well, and Yuuri missed him so much during the time that they were separated, he wants to dive into Victors arms and squeeze him tight. He refrains still, because that would just fuel his infatuation, and perhaps make Victor uncomfortable, and Yuuri never wants that. Victor has no such worries, and when Yuuri is within arms reach he simply tugs him close to his chest, arms wrapping around Yuuri’s neck in a soft but solid embrace. Yuuri lets himself have one deep breath of Victors scent of sweat and dirt and _Victor_ before he pulls himself back, smiling politely as they part, trying to will down his blush and the ringing in his ears.

“I missed you last week, how have my favourite errand boy been for the last month?”

Yuuri blush flares up again and he looks down into the sun yellow canola field.

“I missed you too, tell me about the exam, did you smash it?”

They walk back towards the house, Victor talking vividly about how staying at the Feltsman town house had been, the exam, the other potential students, eating out at a fancy restaurant with Lord and Lady Feltsman. _‘You would love it Yuuri! When I’m a lawyer, I’ll take you there, and you’ll see.’_

They settle under their favourite apple tree, the horses coming up to  snuffle at their legs, just to make sure they aren't hiding any treats, before moving on. Yuuri lies down in the grass, eyes on how the leaf covered branches sway in the soft wind. Victor settles down next to him, resting against the tree trunk.

“Yuuri, do you ever think about the future?” Victor asks after a beat of silence. Yuuri turns his head, looking over at the man he loves. He’s looking contemplating, brows slightly furrowed as he eyes his hands in his lap.

“Sometimes, more lately,” Yuuri admits. The fact that Victor might be leaving soon to live in London has spurred those thoughts on, and there is that other thing.

“Why is that?” Victor asks, eyes coming up to meet Yuuri’s. He takes a steadying breath. There is nothing to be nervous about really. Surely, Victor won’t care.

“My parents have someone they would like me to marry.”

Victor’s eyes goes wide, jaw dropping before he leans forward towards Yuuri.

“What?  Who? Do you-, do you want to marry them?”

Yuuri laughs, a startled one, before he shakes his head.

“Oh no, but I do not have much prospects. I can not continue living of my parents. It will either be marriage or moving out, and even if Mrs. Ottawa pays me as much as she can, it’s not enough for me to support myself.”

Victor frowns, mouth twisting and nose scrunching. He looks so lovely. Yuuri wonders how many has proposed to Victor. If Victor has ever proposed to someone. Surely, no one would turn him down.

“That sounds like an awful way to marry,” Victor settles on and Yuuri nods. It is, it's not what he wants for himself, still, beggars can’t be choosers. “Who is it?”

“Minami Kenjirou, of the Oakwood estate down south. Apparently he had taken a liking to me when we visited relatives there last summer.” Yuuri barely remembers him, but they had met during their summer festival and after a few weeks, a letter for Yuuri’s parents had arrived, asking for Yuuri’s hand in marriage. Yuuri had immediately said no, but it has now been a few months and his parents are still pestering him about it. Yuuri wonders if he could pretend love with Minami, to gain security and a stable life.

“But you do not love him, Minami?” Victor asks. His voice waivers, and it’s such an unusual thing that Yuuri has to sit up and turn to him properly to look him in the eyes.

“I do not.”

“Is there someone you do? Love I mean?”

Yuuri flushes again and tries so hard not to sputter out _‘you’_. He can’t answer this, for he can not lie, and he can not speak the truth.

“Do you?” Yuuri asks instead. It’s a silly question. Yuuri does not want to know about Victor's love interests, does not want to hear about who Victor dreams about when he imagines his future. He hopes Victor will laugh, will brush it off. He doesn’t. Instead he says;

“I do.”

Yuuri’s heart sinks. He does not want to know, he does not want to imagine Victor, laughing and holding hands and marrying…  
“Yuuri?”

Panic is starting to surge in him, heart beating violently and uneven in his chest. He can not let Victor see this. He should go, bike back and hide under the covers of his bed until this ache subdues.

“I’m sorry, I should return to town.” He moves to stand but Victor grabs his wrist and hold him there. Yuuri meets his eyes, filled with storms and worry and sorrow. He despises it.

“Yuuri, I feel I should be up front, and it scares me to do so, for I am terrified to lose you, but now that you have other prospects I feel I should tell you, that I am absolutely smitten with you.”

Yuuri’s heart stops, eyes wide in surprise and mouth dryer than the desert as Victor continues on.

“I don’t know when it started, but I have felt this way for such a long time, no one else makes me feel like you do, Yuuri. I know I do not have much now, no estate or great wealth, but I will work hard until I can give you everything you deserve, everything you should have. For you, Yuuri Katsuki, is the most precious thing I have in my life.”

Yuuri feels like all the air have been removed from his lungs, like his heart stopped and he has awoken in heaven.

“You- you mean it?” He asks, shifting so he’s on his knees, eyes never leaving Victor lovely face. The hand on his wrist loses and in a stroke of courage Yuuri grabs it, lacing their fingers together. Something flashes in Victor eyes as he nods, eyes searching Yuuri’s face.

“I do, I truly do. Please Yuuri. If there is any chance you feel anything like I do, please let me take you out proper, give me a chance to-”

“Yes, yes of course!” Yuuri exclaims, unable to contain the joy bursting through him as he surges forward, arms wrapping around Victor’s shoulders in a bruising hug. He squeezes tight for a second, then pulls back, heart almost overflowing with joy, for he could never have imagined this.

“Yuuri,” Victor whispers, smile so soft and tender on his face that Yuuri almost wants to lean forward and kiss him. He refrains however, there will hopefully be time for that in the future.

 

The future seems to have to wait. Three days later, Germany proclaims war and the start of a nightmare begins.

Yuuri is too young to be called, but Victor is of age, and gets called to the local doctor almost immediately. They both know he will be drafted. Victor is in excellent health, strong and muscular from years on the farm. It breaks Yuuri’s heart nonetheless.

The evening before Victor is set to leave, there is a knock on the Katsuki front door. Yuuri have been in tears all day, Minako sending him home halfway though his shift since the tears would not stop falling, no matter how hard he tried.

He hears the knock, but can not pull himself from bed, eyes red and cheeks wet. Mari calls him down anyway, and by some miracle he manages to pull himself from the small comfort of his bed and walks down the creaking stairs. His parents are on the couch in the sitting room, his mother's smile soft but sad, his father’s expression puzzled. It’s Victor who sits in the opposite arm chair, army uniform perfectly fit around his shoulders and waist. Yuuri wants to rip it off, or burst into tears again.

Victor stands when he spots him, eyes so filled with sadness Yuuri can’t breathe. He takes Yuuri’s hand as soon as he’s within reach, kisses his knuckles softly. Yuuri’s heart aches. Is this all they will have? Is this all the dream he almost touched will bring?

They sit down, Yuuri curling in on himself in the armchair he’s in. His mother will most likely scold him later, but for now he does not care. Victor smiles towards him, warm and lovely but without joy, before turning towards his parents again.

“Mr and Mrs Katsuki. I am here to ask you of a great favour. I know I don’t have much, and that I come from a disadvantaged position with me going away, but I’ve come here to ask for Yuuri’s hand in marriage.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen, turning fully towards Victor now.

“I understand that this is a lot to ask for, for someone who is leaving tomorrow morning to be gone for as long as this war might rage. I know it’s a great favour to ask for someone who might not comeback, but I adore your son, and I would be honored to be his husband. We could marry first thing when I come back for leave, or after the war if you want us to wait until then. I just want to be his, and I hope you can give me your blessing in that.”

Yuuri is crying again, a mix of pain and joy and love coursing through his veins. He doesn't hear his parents answer, for he cares not about what they are saying. If Victor wants to marry him, for Yuuri to be his, Yuuri will win this war single handedly if he has too.

 

Four years is a long time. Four years of waiting, dreading and hoping. For every advance Germany makes, Yuuri’s heart sinks, for every win England manages, his hope burns. He lives with the constant fear that one day, one of Victor’s siblings will come bursting through the shop doors and tell him that they’ve received word that Victor have been injured or killed.

In 1915, the required age for soldiers are lowered, and when Yuuri turns 18 he’s called to dr. Cialdini for length, measurements and health requirements. Yuuri is sure he’ll be called in too, but receives a note the day after, saying he’s not fit for active duty. He’s not sure if he’s relieved, scared or disappointed. Victor is most definitely relieved, letters upon letters that exclaim how happy he is that Yuuri is home, and safe. How it is one of the few things that keeps him sane in the mud, rain and nightmare of a warzone.

Yuuri receives letters every week, Victor telling him how much he misses him, how he wishes he could come home to Yuuri. How they will marry and how their life will be after the war. He writes of other soldiers who he has befriended, games they play, songs they sing. How boredom and restlessness rage though the trenches and make them jittery. How he gets promised leave and then has it taken away. How much he misses Yuuri and wishes they would have wed before he left.

Yuuri writes too, pleas of asking Victor to being careful, declarations of love and longing and hope. He writes of how the work has become stale and hollow at the general store, only giving out rations, apologizing for not being able to give more. How he cried when he had to turn a young widow with two children away when she asked for more flour. How he gave her his raition the next time he saw her.

The years pass, and even if the letters arrives almost like clockwork, Victor does not come home. Yuuri’s longing for him has turned into a hollow ache in his chest. Four years of wait and worry and wallowing in anxiety. Four years, and then the letters stop, and the news come.

Victory.

The war has ended and England and its allies have come out victorious. People around him sing with joy, embraces and drinks of whisky gets handed out at the tavern to toast the victory of their soldiers. Some cry of relief, for the war is over and shall never be again, while those who have lost loved ones cry in agony, wishing that the war had never started in the first place. Yuuri still feels hollow. There has been weeks since Victors last letter, and all he can hope for is that it is because he is on his way home to Yuuri, and not lying injured in some field hospital, or worse.

 

Yuuri is sweeping the floor of the shop while Minako restocks the shelves. Food supply has yet to go up, but the farmers are less cautious now, even if it’s only a month and a half since news arrived that the war is over. The store looks more alive, colors returning in the form of pickled and canned vegetable and fruit. More and more men has returned home, train station almost always has someone waiting for a loved one. Yuuri can’t stand looking at them. So he fills his days with work, days at the shops, nights at the tavern. He rereads Victor’s letters, imprinting each syllable into his heart. He still has hope, even if it’s just a sliver of it.

He picks up the dustpan and heads to the alley in the back to empty it, dusing of his apron afterwards. He turns his face towards the sky, chill of the December air biting at his cheeks. It's almost Victor's birthday, and Yuuri has bought a fifth birthday present for the man he loves, that has yet to be given, one for each year he’s been away.

The doorbell chimes, he hears it traveling through the shop and to the back where he stands. He pays it no mind. Minako is there, he’s sure she can handle who ever has come to use their service. He just needs a moment to gather his thought, and then he will head back inside.

“Yuuri!” Minako calls and he lets out a sigh. Apparently not.

He turns, takes the small stone steps up into the back of the shop he knows better than his own room, turns though the shelf clad corridor that leads to the front and looks up. There is a soft light coming in from the large storefront windows, shadowing the man standing in the middle of the shop floor. Yuuri takes a step closer, squinting to make his eyes focus, and drops the broom and dustpan, landing on the wooden floor with a loud clang.  

His hair is short now, the traces of youth and innocence washed away. There is a scar on his cheek and he’s taller, broader shoulders but waist still slim. It’s the same eyes, the azure gaze as breathtakingly beautiful as when Yuuri saw for the first time in this shop almost a decade ago. He smiles, mouth heart shaped and Yuuri’s heart lurches to life in his chest, as if it had been in hibernation since the letters stopped arriving, since Victor got on that train and left four years ago. It’s him, it’s truly him.

His Victor.

A sob rips though Yuuri’s throat as his hands come up to cover his mouth, sight bullring as tears start to fill his eyes.

“Yuuri,” Victor calls and his voice, the beautiful bells of his voice, makes another sob rip through Yuuri. He can’t move, even if all he wants is to close the distance between them and touch Victor, to know he’s real. Victor does it for him, warm hands coming to cup Yuuri’s cheeks as his face gets tipped up. Victor removes his glasses, wiping the tears away. It’s real.

It’s not a dream.

He’s here.

He lives.

“Oh darling, I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long.”

Yuuri does not answer in words, for none of them seems to be enough to describe what he’s feeling. Instead, he grabs Victor’s waist tight and pushes up so their lips meet.

It’s their second kiss. The first one equally teary but filled with goodbyes, on a train station platform next to many others, doing much the same. This kiss is different. It’s filled with desperation, longing but hope. Of all the love they’ve poured into each other and finally get to show. Yuuri smiles against Victor’s lips, and feels his love do the same.

 

They marry only a month after, surrounded by those who are closest to them. Parents, friends, Lord and Lady Feltsman. Yuuri sees none of them. All he sees is the boy he fell in love with, and the man he’s going to love for an eternity. Wherever life may take them, he knows they will walk that path, together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think in the comment section or on other platforms like:  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/linisen) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mjaoue)
> 
> If you love YOI and you’re looking for an amazing place to hang out with, with some amazingly kind, warm and funny people you’re welcome to join the server by following this [link](https://discord.gg/TYMxcAB)


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